She spotted me and her face lit up instantly that wide, genuine smile that reached her eyes and before I could react, she crossed the distance and hugged me tightly.
“Oh my God,” she laughed into my shoulder, arms wrapping around me without hesitation. “I missed you so much!”
I chuckled, patting her back once. “Yeah, I can tell.”
She pulled back, still smiling, eyes scanning my face quickly. “How’s everyone? Is everything going okay?”
“You’ll see yourself,” I said, picking up one of her bags. “Though… they’re a little upset.”
Her smile faltered just a bit. “What? Why?”
“You were supposed to reach by morning,” I reminded her. “Mom’s been checking her phone every ten minutes.”
She rolled her eyes dramatically. “I know, I know. But what do I do? My flight got cancelled at the last moment. I swear, I tried everything.”
“Excuses already?” I teased lightly.
She gasped. “Excuse me. This is a very valid reason.”
I shook my head, amused. “Come on. Your dearest Bhai’s wedding isn’t going to wait for you.”
Her eyes sparkled instantly. “I’m so excited, Vivaan. You have no idea.”
“Same,” I replied simply.
We didn’t linger at the airport. The drive back to Udaigarh Palace was quiet, comfortable. She talked about her semester, about how exhausting travel had been, about how she hadn’t even had time to shop.
“Mom and your mom handled everything,” she added casually. “I didn’t buy a single outfit.”
“That sounds about right,” I said. “You just show up. Everything else magically happens.”
She smiled, leaning her head back against the seat. “That’s called being loved.”
When we reached the palace, the place was still buzzing. Decorations, staff moving around, distant music, wedding energy everywhere.
The moment she stepped inside, she was pulled into greetings.
First chacha and chachi warm hugs, affectionate scolding, quick updates. Then my parents. Mom’s expression shifted instantly from annoyance to relief. “Finally,” she said, holding her face between her hands. “We thought you’d disappear.”
“I told you na badi ma” she said apologetically. “Flight trouble.”
Dad smiled, calm as always. “You’re here now. That’s what matters.”
And then… Dadu.
She bent slightly to touch his feet, and he placed a hand on her head, smiling fondly. They exchanged a few quiet words nothing heavy, just warmth, familiarity.
After a few minutes, I glanced at the time.
“Okay,” I said, clapping my hands lightly. “Enough. Let her breathe.”
Everyone laughed.
I turned to her. “Go to your room, rest a bit. Evening’s going to be busy.”
She nodded easily. “Yeah, I really need to freshen up.”
“We’ll have fun later,” I added.
She smiled. “Obviously.”
And with that, she followed one of the staff members upstairs, disappearing into the palace corridors.
I watched her go for a second… then turned back toward the lawn, where the rest of the wedding drama waited.
By the time evening slipped fully into night, the palace felt like it had exhaled.
The loudness of the day softened. The rush faded. Everything slowed into something calmer, prettier like the palace finally settling into its own skin under the stars.
Dinner passed easily. No formal rush, no stiff seating. Just long tables, warm food, and familiar faces leaning into conversations that didn’t need to be loud to be meaningful. Laughter came in waves. Someone clinked spoons absent mindedly. Somewhere, a glass shattered and immediately became a joke.
After that, most of the family drifted toward the backyard of the palace.
And honestly… it looked unreal.
The entire space was wrapped in warm fairy lights—soft yellow bulbs hanging low, creating a gentle glow instead of harsh brightness. In the middle of the garden, thick mats were spread out, layered with oversized cushions in neutral shades. Everything looked intentional but effortless.
Lanterns rested on the grass, casting soft shadows. A light breeze carried the faint scent of flowers and night air.
People were scattered everywhere.
Some aunties had already formed a circle, sitting close, heads tilted together. Gossips
“I’m telling you, she definitely did that on purpose,” one of them whispered dramatically.
“I knew it,” another nodded like she’d cracked a mystery.
Classic.
A little further away, a group had started antakshari, someone clapping off beat, someone else loudly correcting lyrics.
And then… the men.
Of course.
A whole group of them stood near one side, hands in pockets or folded across chests, deeply invested in what sounded like a very serious discussion.
“I swear, my wife checks my phone more than I do.”
“That’s nothing. Mine schedules my sleep.”
“Strict wives are a blessing,” someone declared like a philosopher.
And right there, contributing enthusiastically—
My father.
I stared at him for a second.
Really?
I shook my head.
Definitely telling my Mumma about this.
I stepped away before I heard something I couldn’t unhear and pulled my phone out. Opened our group chat—the one with bhai, my friends, cousins, and a few of bhabhi’s close people. Specially made for this wedding.
Me:
Come to the back garden. Different one. Near the lantern setup.
I sent it and looked around, walking toward the other side of the palace grounds. This garden was quieter. More intimate.
The lights here were softer, almost golden. Mats and cushions covered most of the grass, and low wooden tables held snacks and drinks. The whole place glowed gently under the night sky, like someone had designed comfort instead of luxury.
One by one, people started showing up.
Bhai’s friends came first, already laughing, already loud.
“Finally,” one of them said, dropping onto a cushion. “Now it feels like wedding”
My friends followed, dressed comfortably. Someone kicked off their shoes immediately.
“This is perfect,” one of them sighed. “I’m not standing anywhere tonight.”
Cousins joined next, greeting everyone like they’d met just yesterday instead of years ago. Someone brought extra snacks. Someone else stole them.
Then bhabhi’s side arrived her friends, her best friend and cousins equally relaxed, equally comfortable.
What I noticed immediately was how everyone had changed. No heavy designer outfits.
Girls were in shorts, oversized tees, loose night suits, hair tied up or left open, makeup mostly gone. The guys were in joggers, track pants, hoodies. Everyone looked like themselves again.
Someone stretched out fully on a mat. Someone leaned back on cushions, staring up at the sky.
“This feels like a sleepover,” one of bhabhi’s friends said, smiling.
“Exactly the point,” I replied, sitting down cross-legged. “Wedding version.”
Laughter followed.
Music played softly from someone’s phone, not loud enough to dominate, just enough to exist. Conversations overlapped naturally. No one was performing. No one was trying too hard.
I leaned back slightly, resting my weight on my hands. I glanced up at the sky once.
The night had just begun.
We were barely settled when one of bhai’s friends—Raghav, I think... he suddenly sat up, clapping his hands once like he’d just had a brilliant idea.
“Okay,” he said, grinning. “We can’t just lie here doing nothing. Let’s play something.”
Instant reaction. Heads lifted. Bodies shifted. Conversations paused mid-sentence.
I watched the change ripple through the group eyes lighting up, people straightening, smiles spreading like someone had just announced dessert.
“Oh yes,” one of bhabhi’s cousins chimed in immediately. “Please. I was getting bored.”
“Same,” another added. “I didn’t come all the way here to just listen to gossips”
Bhabhi laughed softly, tucking her legs under her. “Okay,” she said easily. “We’ll play. But what?”
There was a second of silence.
Then someone yelled from the back, “Antak—”
“No!”
“Absolutely not.”
“Please spare us.”
The reactions came too fast, overlapping with laughter.
“Not antakshari,” bhai groaned. “I am done with that game. I refuse to sing after dinner.”
“And I refuse to hear him sing,” one of bhabhi’s friends taunting sweetly.
“So then what?” Raghav asked, spreading his hands dramatically. “Suggestions?”
People started throwing ideas around—half serious, half nonsense.
“Truth and dare?”
“Too risky.”
“Charades?”
“Too much effort.”
“Something simple.”
“Something fun.”
That’s when Alisha spoke.
She hadn’t said much all evening, just lounging comfortably against a cushion, observing everything with that quiet, knowing smile of hers.
“Never have I ever,” she said calmly.
The moment the words left her mouth, the garden erupted.
“Ohhh!”
“No way.”
“That’s dangerous.”
“I’m in.”
I felt my lips curve on their own. I turned my head slightly toward her, raising one eyebrow, smirking. Of course. Of course this was what it would come down to.
There's no way it's group of young people and they are playing something sane.
Alisha caught my look and smiled wider, unapologetic. Like she’d been waiting for my reaction.
Bhai leaned back, groaning. “This is how families fall apart.”
“That’s the fun part,” someone said cheerfully.
Everyone started nodding, murmuring agreement. The energy shifted completely now lighter, mischievous, charged.
“Okay, fine,” bhabhi said, laughing. “Never have I ever it is.”
But before anyone could start, Nisha—one of bhabhi’s cousins raised her finger.
“Wait,” she said seriously. “If we’re doing this, we need something to drink.”
A few people exchanged looks.
“Alcohol?” someone asked hopefully.
She shook her head quickly. “Not everyone drinks.”
“Juice?” another suggested.
Nisha grimaced. “Too easy.”
“What about soda?”
“Boring.”
She smiled slowly, clearly enjoying the suspense. “No. It has to taste like… punishment.”
That got everyone’s attention.
I sat up a little. “Punishment?”
“Yes,” she said confidently.
Before anyone could process that, bhabhi’s best friend who had been quiet till now leaned forward with a straight face.
“Vinegar.”
Silence.
Actual, stunned silence.
I blinked once. Then twice.
“…What?”
A few people burst out laughing. Others stared at her like she’d just committed a crime.
“Who drinks vinegar?” someone asked, horrified.
“That’s not a drink,” bhai said. “That’s cleaning liquid.”
“I mean—” I finally spoke, genuinely confused, “are we trying to play a game or ruin our throats?”
Bhabhi’s best friend shrugged, completely unfazed. “Exactly. That’s why it works. You'll remember it everytime you'll see it. Memories you know!!”
Alisha clutched her stomach, laughing. “This is evil. I love it.”
Nisha nodded enthusiastically. “Yes! Vinegar shots.”
“Shots?” someone repeated weakly.
“I came here to relax,” Raghav said dramatically. “Not to suffer.”
I looked around at the group- everyone half-terrified, half-excited, already way too invested to back out now.
This was happening.
I sighed, shaking my head with a crooked smile.
“Great,” I muttered. “… and here we’re about to drink vinegar.”
Somewhere inside, I knew—
This game was not going to end quietly.
“Vinegar?”
“You mean… actual vinegar?”
“That thing you put on salad?”
I smiled, completely unbothered.
“What?” I shrugged lightly. “It’s normal. People drink apple cider vinegar all the time.”
“That’s diluted,” someone argued.
“This won’t be,” Alisha added helpfully, already enjoying the drama.
A few dramatic groans followed, but no one backed out. Of course they wouldn’t. This group thrived on bad decisions wrapped in laughter.
Raghav—soon-to-be jiju’s friend and clearly the self-appointed host of nonsense, clapped his hands once.
“Alright,” he announced. “Let’s stop debating our fate. Game on. Who’s first?”
There was a brief pause.
Then Sakshi—our school-time friend, still exactly the same raised her hand.
“I’ll go first.”
Everyone turned toward her.
She shifted slightly, sitting straighter. “Okay,” she said, looking around pointedly, “we’re all adults here. No judgmental looks. Agreed?”
A few people nodded. Someone crossed their heart dramatically.
“Agreed,” bhabhi said, amused.
Sakshi smiled. And then—
“Never have I ever… watched porn.”
For half a second, silence.
And then the garden exploded.
“What—”
“OH MY GOD.”
“SAKSHI!”
“Ewww!”
Most of the girls immediately scrunched their noses.
“Eww no.”
“I refuse to even imagine that.”
“Disgusting.”
I laughed, hugging a cushion closer, watching the drama unfold.
“Rules are rules,” Sakshi said sweetly. “If you have… take a shot.”
And that’s when it happened. Almost every single man in the group reached for the shot glasses.
At the same time.
Like it was choreographed. With pride.
My jaw dropped.
“Oh my—” someone muttered.
They exchanged smug looks with each other, raised their glasses, and without hesitation—
Downed the vinegar in one go.
Instant regret.
“Oh hell—”
“My throat—!”
Hands flew into the air. Faces twisted. Someone coughed dramatically. Someone else cursed their own existence.
“This is it,” Raghav croaked. “I’m not surviving tomorrow.”
A few girls laughed so hard they bent forward. And then some of the girls quietly picked up their glasses too. With embarrassed smiles. With eyes anywhere but on the group. They took small but determined shots.
I stared, half-shocked, half-amused.
And then—
Kavya.
She lifted her glass with a sly little smile, met Sakshi’s gaze for just a second… and drank.
I blinked. “Wait—”
Too late.
She placed the glass down calmly, still smiling, while the others continued their dramatic suffering.
“I cannot believe you,” someone accused her.
She just shrugged. “What? No judgmental looks. Agreed, remember?”
Laughter broke out again.
I, on the other hand, stayed exactly where I was. Hands wrapped around my cushion. Glass untouched.
Nope.
“Mayra?” Alisha teased. “You’re safe?”
I made a face. “Ew. No. Who the hell watches that stuff?”
A few people gasped. Someone laughed.
“Innocent,” Sakshi declared.
“Or liar,” someone else joked.
“I don’t need lie here.” I said lightly.
More laughter.
I leaned back, enjoying the moment the chaos, the noise, the ridiculousness of it all. Watching people fan their mouths, complain about their throats dying by morning, swear they could taste their regrets.
And that’s when From the corner of my eye, I watched him. I turned my head slightly.
Vivaan.
And to my shock he was already looking at me.
Something unreadable in his expression.
My heart did that stupid, unnecessary thing again.
I immediately looked away, focusing very hard on the cushion in my lap like it had suddenly become fascinating.
Sakshi settled back into her place, still grinning like she’d just dropped a bomb and walked away unscathed.
Beside her, Tanay shifted. He was sitting cross-legged, one arm resting lazily on his knee, expression thoughtful.. too thoughtful for someone about to ruin peace.
“Okay,” he said, clearing his throat. “My turn.”
A few people groaned preemptively.
He smiled. The dangerous kind.
“Never have I ever… been in a relationship.”
The reaction was instant but quieter this time. No explosive laughter. Just murmurs. Side glances. Calculations.
I watched glasses being picked up slowly, almost reluctantly.
Some people drank without hesitation, like it wasn’t even a secret anymore. Some paused, sighed, and then took the shot with a resigned expression. Others stayed still.
I didn’t move.
I glanced around, curious, my gaze unconsciously lifting—
And that’s when I noticed him again.
Vivaan.
Still. Hands resting on his knees. No glass lifted. His eyes flicked briefly around, registering who drank and who didn’t… and then, unmistakably, they came back to me.
For a fraction of a second, something shifted in his expression.
He didn't drink it.
Is he single?
The question seemed to hang in the space between us, unspoken yet heavy.
Strange.
Then who is she…?
I looked away before my thoughts could spiral further, pretending to adjust the cushion under me. The moment stretched, and then someone clapped, breaking it.
“Okay, okay,” someone laughed. “Next. Next before this gets awkward.”
A guy from Arjun’s side—one of his close friends, loud and unapologetic leaned forward eagerly.
“Oh, I’ve been waiting for this,” he said, rubbing his hands together. “My turn.”
People straightened. Smiles returned. Mischief was back.
He didn’t even pause.
“Never have I ever… kissed someone.”
For half a second and then..
“Ohhhhhh!” “BRO—” “THIS ONE!”
Cheers erupted instantly. Someone whistled. Someone else clapped like they’d been personally attacked.
I froze for exactly one beat.
Then I picked up the glass.
So did almost everyone.
Rare—very rare people stayed still this time. They were immediately stared at like mythical creatures.
I brought the glass to my lips and took the shot, wincing as the vinegar burned its way down my throat.
“God,” I coughed. “Why did I suggest this?”
Beside me, Kavya drank too—then turned to me slowly, lifting both eyebrows with a knowing, infuriatingly smug smile.
I swallowed, placed the glass down, and just shrugged at her.
What?
From the corner of my vision, I sensed movement. Vivaan h
ad taken the shot too.
But then he looked at me. And his gaze… stilled.
Not shocked.
Not judging.
Just… intent. Focused. Like a piece of information had quietly rearranged itself in his head.
Something was there. Something unreadable.
I didn’t let myself linger on it.
I looked away, wiping my hand on my joggers, pretending the burn in my throat was the only thing bothering me.
The game moved on. Laughter continued. Someone complained dramatically about dying young.
Thank you for reading!!!
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